


The garment of radiance

by Coriandr



Category: Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 12:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16597973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coriandr/pseuds/Coriandr
Summary: It turns out that Tamaraneans do have something like underwear except, of course, it's used for sex. Kory helps Raven demonstrate how this works.





	The garment of radiance

  
After that night Raven spent in my room, painted with my juices, glowing within the shroud of her darkness, I could not stop thinking about her.

For a human, Raven is a fascinating mix of boldness and reticence. She’s told me some of her upbringing in the temple, the focus on discipline and peace. This would not serve a Tamaranean. We believe emotion must go out, not be held within. To hold it within is to deprive the community of energy and power.

She learned so much constraint so young. But also I think some of it she likes, both having constraint and breaching it—likes to practice small transgressions and be praised for them at the same time she’s chastized. It took me a long time to realize this.

She is always paying attention to the line of what is proper. Or at least that’s what I thought. When I first came to the Titans, she was always saying things like, “Kory, at least wear underpants.”

She explained many aspects of human propriety to me. Sometimes I asked her to explain more than once, just to see her say it again, to see the gleam deep in her mist-gray eyes.

This lead to some deep conversations, including:

“Kory, don’t your people have something like marriage?” Raven asked while we were sitting my room one evening after dinner.

We had the door open and fashion magazines spread around so the boys, looking in, would walk on by. Really we were talking about magic and flight and her upbringing and mine. And one of the magazines did have interesting articles about human courtship rituals, but she’d been explaining what “pornography” meant and why we had to keep that one hidden under the others.

“Marriage,” I said, letting the word translate itself in my mind into three possible Tamaranean terms. I picked the one I thought most likely. “A bond between adults for mutual protection? Of course, we have many.”

“No, like fidelity.”

“Define this please.”

“Being faithful to one person,” she said.

What was faithful? I had to search my memory for the definitions I’d absorbed. “As loyalty? Why would I only be loyal to one person?”

“I’m asking about sex, Kory.”

“What about it?”

“Do you ever make an agreement to only have sex with one person?” She had her feet stretched out along the floor, next to mine, her toes tapping the side of my calf.

“Oh yes, we do that. It’s very common, especially in the rainy season.”

“Why … okay wait, that’s not my question. Do you make this agreement for life?”

I scooted back along the floor, away from her. “No, who would do that? That’s … that’s horrible. It would destroy the …,” I struggled for the right translation and settled on, “spirit of the community.”

“But if two people love each other and only want to be with each other, isn’t that good?”

“I love your human ice cream. Would it be good if I only ate that?” I asked her.

“Food and sex are different,” she insisted.

“Are they? Both are for increasing aliveness, for creating thriving conditions. Both take energy into your body for its health. Both can be shared among people to increase closeness.”

We stared at each other in deep confusion that Raven broke by teleporting out of my room. In a minute she was back, holding a container of ice cream and two spoons. I think she could tell how uncomfortable I’d become. And I think also she did not, even now does not, like when we find ourselves at odds. Of all the Titans, we are the two who grew up furthest from human culture; we are the least human. Therefore, we should be the closest.

She is very lonely sometimes and does not know how to say this, because the temple where she grew up did not have the bright bonds of community that children need. Tamaranean children need that very much, but I think, also human children or, even, half-human.

She put the ice cream on the table and smiled her compressed smile. “On Tamaran, this doesn’t mean exactly the same as sex, right?”

I grinned. “We can eat from the same source. It only means we’re friends.”

She slid one spoon to my side of the table and I sat back down.

“Now,” she said. “Can we talk about you wearing underwear?”

“Yes, I have questions about this too. Why isn’t it considered rude to hide one’s body from family?”

She explained it well enough that I could sometimes get myself to do it, even though it felt shameful. More shameful when I had my change and thought I had to wear the heavy pants to cover this joyful thing that humans found inappropriate. So confusing.

*

I did not like underwear until she showed me some of its other, better uses. This came much later than the ice cream and talking about human marriage. It came, thankfully, after we’d been spending a lot more time together in my bed.

It’s always my bed. I think because sounds that are sexual coming from my room surprises no one, but if those same sounds came from Raven’s room they would think magic had gone badly awry.

In my bed, side by side, kissing each other slowly. I tugged at the top of her underpants, but she caught my hand. We were supposed to be “going slow.” Once she explained that, it wasn’t as foreign a concept to me as one might think. Tamaraneans have many ways we like to luxuriate in bed.

“I can’t decide if this is wonderful or frustrating,” I said, my fingers splayed across her belly.

She caught my hand and directed my fingers down, over her underpants, along the outside of the cloth. I didn’t understand until I felt the fabric between her legs—drenched with her wetness. I rubbed, feeling the wet fabric slipping between her lips.

“Ah, this is what underwear is for,” I whispered. “It is the _suliim_ among my people.”

She was laughing quietly, her face resting on my shoulder. “Are you telling me after all this time Tamaraneans actually do have underwear?”

“It’s not a true equivalency. _Suliim_ is the the garment of radiance that shows the desires of the lovers. It is worn close to the skin, like this, but I suspect you do not later hang your underwear for display.”

“Oh no, absolutely not.” But she shivered under my fingers as she said it.

“Are you sure? What if we drench every inch of this cloth with your juices? Wouldn’t you want that to be where it could remind me.” As I murmurred this to her, I moved my fingers in broader strokes and pulled at the cloth so it slipped further between her lips.

I pushed the fabric aside just enough to catch some of her wetness on my fingers and painted it around the area of her clit. She was rubbing her body against me, arms around my neck, whispering, “No, you can’t do that. What if other people saw?”

“It would be very conspicuous,” I told her. “They know I don’t wear black underpants. And you are so wet, does this wetness make a stain? Do you know?”

She moaned, her breasts pressing against mine. I kept ducking my fingers between her legs to get more wetness and then circling her clit, feeling her hips jerk in response.

“Yes,” she whispered. “It does.”

“How do you know, little darkness, unless you’ve done this before. Did you come in your underpants?”

“Yes,” she whispered again, even quieter.

“Was it an accident?”

She shook her head, “No”, a quick, furious motion and then buried her face in the side of my neck, under my hair. “Almost,” she said, so softly.

“What is an almost accident? I learned English all at once, you’ll have to tell me,” I insisted, though I could guess. I wanted her to say it, especially since her having to talk, having to admit her adorable indiscretions, made her shiver and rock her hips toward me, pressing into my fingers.

“I was trying to study, honest,” she said. “But I felt you, in your room, you were really turned on and you were, the feelings were getting stronger.”

“I was self-pleasuring,” I said. “You could feel that? Could you feel what I was doing?”

“Only that you were doing something, not what it was. But I imagined it.” She had one arm beside my neck, her face tucked there, under my hair, the other hand on my hip. Her fingers tightened on my skin as she said, “I imagined your fingers inside yourself.”

“Did you get very wet imagining this?” I asked. “Did you get as wet as you are now?”

Raven nodded, her body shaking. She was very thoroughly soaking the crotch of her panties and I slid them against her lips so she could feel all that wetness.

I’d been getting hard during this whole conversation, my cock fully extended from inside my body but trapped in my shorts—and I was similarly wet, feeling that full slickness between my lips. I put one leg between hers, shifted until her thigh was pressing my cock down against my thigh and when I moved my hips slightly, rubbing it against my slickening, swollen lower lips.

“Did you feel me come?” I asked and felt her nod.

“I had to … I just put my hand there for a moment,” she said.

The idea of her, alone in her room, thinking about me fingering myself, fucking myself, feeling what I felt, brought me so close to coming, but I wanted to wait, to feel her loose control first. I drew my hand away from her just for a moment to adjust my cock upwards, along the curve inside my hip, so I could control the pressure there. All of me felt so swollen and ready. This was going to be a very close thing, which of us came first.

I slid my hand farther between her legs, with the base of my thumb over her clit and my palm over the wettest part of her underpants, over her opening as it pushed more of her juices out into the already saturated cloth. Her hips jerked, thrusting her clit up against my thumb.

“What was it like when you felt me come?” I asked.

“Like a slice of the sun was inside me,” she whispered. “The soft, warm sun, on the most perfect, joyful day.”

“Did you come with me?” I asked. “With your hand between your legs only for a moment? Did you think about me holding you or, maybe, watching you?”

She was nodding, making soft gasps, practially riding my hand. I curled my fingers so the fabric of her panties was almost inside her. Her wet had saturated the cloth and spread slowly down my fingers.

“You must still have had your clothing on,” I said. “Did you make a mess?”

Another nod.

“Show me how big a mess you can make.”

With a soft cry, she pushed against my whole hand, muscles working inside her, bursts of wetness pushing through the cloth, pulsing against my skin. I grabbed the crotch of her panties in my fist, feeling the wetness inside my hand and against my skin as she jerked and rocked against my knuckles.

I was almost to late getting my other hand into my shorts and pulling my cock free. I’d started coming, hot wetness splashing over my hand and then over the front of Raven’s panties. She gasped, moaned, one hand making a fist against my back. With her other hand, she pulled her panties away from her body so my last shuddering spurts streamed down her skin, into the soft darkness of her pubic hair.

When she released her panties, they clung wetly to her skin. I traced my fingers over the soaked material from the waistband down to her crotch. She shivered and kissed me.

I slid a finger between my own lower lips, gathering wetness, and painted that down the front of her panties. Then I tucked my fingers around the waistband and drew them gently over her hips, her thighs, knees, calves, off over her feet. Kneeling on the bed I held them up.

“Very wet,” I said. I held them open, smiling down at the creamy whiteness gathered in the center. For humans this was as good as the dark gold color was from me; she’d come very much, very hard and thoroughly. “We should hang these in the kitchen.”

“No, absolutely not. Kory!”

“The living room?”

She sat up and grabbed for them, but I pulled them away.

“How about in here, inside my closet?”

“Inside a robe inside your closet,” she said.

I grinned. “Honestly? I thought you would keep saying no.”

She blushed and looked away. And I started thinking of what other kinds of human clothing we could ruin.

 

 


End file.
